You Were in the Darkness Too
by SenpenBanka29
Summary: "...So I stayed in the darkness with you." AN: I've seen little to no OroKabu AUs featuring them as being the same age, so I took a whack at it. Oneshot. Title/summary lyrics c Florence Welch.


It's fitting, perhaps, that they meet in a graveyard.

They drift along the moss-covered stones with names made illegible by the passage of time, quiet as those buried beneath their young feet. If one listens hard enough and is attentive and attuned to the realm beyond the living, one can hear the whispers of passed souls trying desperately to release the words left unsaid, never to be spoken aloud. Few find a confidant to whom the words can be said, and therefore, few truly rest in peace.

Kabuto can't find the grave he's searching for.

The knowledge that this is because no one bothered to bury her is strong at the back of his mind, though he tries to push it back, convincing himself that he's simply not looking properly. He swallows unhelpful bitterness and sorrow and, above all, anger. It's pointless to hate her killers now.

But the fact remains that his mother, by birth or not, is dead by Konoha's hand, though the village didn't wield the knife that struck and stopped her heart. They could have had any other spy. And yet they chose the one needed not only by her community and her friends but by lost children to whom she had given their only home.

His long black yukata billows around his legs as a cold autumn wind blows, and he adjusts his glasses, hand lingering on the cool metal frames. He moves on, alone as he wanders down row upon row of the names of the dead. He wonders how many owners of these names made them known, how many died as good as anonymous.

Suddenly he stops. He's not alone after all.

A little ways down the line of stones, another boy about his age kneels in the grass. The similarities end there; his hair is long and dark, and he is garbed in white. The wind blows back the curtains of his hair that hang on either side of his face, and Kabuto sees his expression. Distant, solemn. Lost.

He's not sure why he finds himself slowly approaching.

When he draws nearer, the boy takes notice and tilts his head upwards, taking in the sight of him. For a moment, Kabuto looks right back, and his sable eyes meet ones of piercing amber, almost gold, framed by purple markings unlike which any he has ever seen.

He remembers himself and looks down. An automatic apology passes his lips. "I'm sorry, I…"

When he receives no answer, he feels a surge of embarrassment for approaching but can't help but glance at the other boy again, trying to gauge his reaction. The other's expression is curious in both senses—peculiar in its look of intrigue. Kabuto finds his attention momentarily stolen by the sight of skin so pale that it resembles polished white stone and eyes that can only be described as serpentine, bright with slit, catlike pupils.

The other's response is not a response at all, but a question, quiet and smooth. "Who are you?"

Kabuto, while slightly confused, answers without much hesitation. "I'm…Kabuto Yakushi. Forgive me, I was… I'm looking for someone." He hopes he hasn't interrupted anything that cannot be returned to, some reverie of great depth.

"You won't find anyone here." Slowly the boy stands, meeting Kabuto's bewildered gaze. They're about the same height, their eye levels matching, gazes locking. "You'll only find bodies." He didn't speak in a mocking way, nor one that hinted at any morbidness. Simply factually, calmly.

Perplexed, Kabuto replies, frowning, "Aren't bodies people?"

A slight shake of the head. "People aren't bodies. People _have_ bodies." He turns, voice growing hushed, far away. "Had…"

It's not quite an encounter Kabuto had expected to have, but he is fascinated by this other boy. Though he's unsure if he's even listening, Kabuto asks tentatively, echoing him, "Who are you?"

There is a pause, and after a moment, the boy turns back to him, and the thin smile on his colorless lips surprises Kabuto. "My name is Orochimaru," he says, and though his voice is as soft as his smile, there is a look in those golden eyes, torrid and driven, that Kabuto doesn't forget.

* * *

If Jiraiya and Tsunade are his friends, then he doesn't know what Kabuto is to him.

Even now, five years after their first meeting, Orochimaru's not quite sure what to identify the gray-haired teen as in the log in his mind of people he knows. Kabuto is enigmatic in general, naturally—perhaps unwittingly—shrouding himself in ambiguity. His smiles rarely meet his eyes, and Orochimaru has never seen him cry, though he's come close. He's never even visited the orphanage where Kabuto was raised and resides in still; Kabuto is always the one who comes to the village to meet him.

He gets along with Orochimaru's teammates well enough, though Jiraiya seems to just enjoy having an even easier target for remorseless teasing than his prodigious best friend. Orochimaru is more likely to counter with a biting remark, whereas Kabuto is shyer, though he has surprised the others once or twice with a sharp comeback that had rolled off his tongue like he had been dying to have it elicited all along.

Tsunade is openly fond of him. The two had struck up a conversation once about their shared interest in medical ninjutsu, and ever since she has felt obligated to give Jiraiya an extra punch on the arm when his joking goes too far, whenever Kabuto is invited along on group outings.

"He's cute," she tells Orochimaru one day. "In a weird, quiet kinda way. Smart, too."

To call Kabuto smart is an understatement. Orochimaru knows brilliance when he sees it, and try as the other teenager might to downplay his own intelligence, it's a waste of time when the two of them take trips to the library, often in sections they shouldn't be in. He is the first person Orochimaru has ever met who can actually keep up with his discussions of complex jutsu theory and anatomical studies; in fact, he frequently challenges the young genius with points of his own, often brought up modestly, as if he's sure whatever he's saying is purely elementary as opposed to tremendously advanced.

It excites Orochimaru. Invigorates him, even.

So one night, when they are at Orochimaru's house where he has lived alone ever since the death of his parents that had brought him to the graveyard where he'd met the medical ninja, he stops Kabuto in the middle of an observation about the scroll they're both studying and kisses him on the mouth, sealing the other's lips shut with his own. He's not sure entirely why he does it, but the underlying cause is probably the fact that no matter how much his friends care for him, they will never understand him the way Kabuto does.

The immediate cause is just how soft Kabuto's lips look. They live up to expectations.

* * *

"They've assigned me my first mission as Jōnin."

Orochimaru smirks, his nimble fingers running down Kabuto's back, caressing the tiny bumps of his vertebrae. "The fledgling is leaving the nest," he murmurs, teasing, kissing the smooth column of his lover's throat. The two of them are the same age, twenty-four, but Orochimaru has been among the elite of Konoha's ranks since long before Kabuto, whose promotion is recent.

Actually, Orochimaru's own promotion had even preceded their first kiss all those years ago.

"Very funny," Kabuto replies, trying to look irritated, though his breath hitches in his throat at every gentle touch and kiss. "Mm…" His eyelids fall, and he rests his head in the crook of Orochimaru's neck. Serpentine in all senses, he possesses comforting body heat in the summer months. Kabuto whispers against pale skin, "You don't seem particularly worried."

"My dear, why on earth would I be?" Orochimaru raises a slender eyebrow, wrapping an arm around Kabuto's bare body under the sheets, holding him to his side. "This is long overdue. For whatever reason, you've been endeavoring to conceal your talents for far too long. You're a damn better shinobi than half of the other elite."

"Mm, perhaps." A typical response. Among the many things Orochimaru appreciates about Kabuto is the self-awareness beneath all that modesty. He doesn't need Orochimaru to tell him he is talented, even if he doesn't always act like it. The fact of the matter is that he knows very well what he is capable of and, possibly, just doesn't want to face it.

Which impels Orochimaru to ask, "Do you want it, Kabuto?"

He doesn't need to explain that 'it' refers not just to the mission but to the position, the career, and the lifestyle in general. Kabuto understands. A heavy sigh slips past the other's lips as he curls closer to Orochimaru's body. "I don't know. Espionage, Orochimaru. It's the specialty they're grooming me for. I've demonstrated too much proficiency."

Kabuto's next words are mumbled, and Orochimaru barely catches them. "I never wanted to follow in her footsteps in this respect. She left for a reason."

None of this surprises Orochimaru, but he can't say he expected the confession, either. Kabuto isn't ordinarily one to disclose such things, even to the person closest to him.

Without saying a word, he gently strokes Kabuto's light hair, lost in thoughts of something he himself still has yet to vocalize. He supposes he has known for a while, over their years of growing up together as shinobi, that Kabuto simply isn't suited for what Konoha wants of him, and that's a drone. To be perfectly honest, he doesn't want that for Kabuto either. He's seen what no one else has: the elusive passion in Kabuto, intellectual and sexual, that can only be roused by him, something he takes immense pride in. There is potential there, a gleam in those onyx eyes. He doesn't want it wasted or snuffed out.

There is also the pesky detail that Orochimaru could very well be in love with this man, something he tries not to think about. Years have passed and neither of them has ever spoken those three words, in bed or out. Neither knows why, and neither will bring it up.

All he knows is that he can't carry on much longer watching Kabuto try to make a life for himself in Konoha that he doesn't even want, all for the sake of Orochimaru himself. He can't go on doing jutsu research with Kabuto that grows increasingly more forbidden with each passing day, not where they could be caught and punished for it.

Above all, he doesn't know if he can keep lying to Jiraiya and Tsunade about his research and his relationship with the other man, which are for all intents and purposes the predominant aspects of his life. It makes his chest ache terribly to think about it, but he doesn't know how much longer he can pretend to be the person they take him for. How much longer he can stay.

He won't ask today, or in the near future for that matter, but he knows that sooner or later he will have to find out if Kabuto is willing to go down with him.


End file.
